I was exiting the HEB parking lot when a beat up old car caught my eye. Omg, could it be? No. Way. A purple Ford Aspire!
I burst out laughing. One of my best long-time friends used to own a janky-ass purple Aspire that looked JUST like this one!
Crying together in the front seats while we watched the opening scene of 'Up' for the first time at the drive-in theatre. Playing the mix cds we made for each other while we went on road trips. Creating a short film freshman year, in which this car was a supporting character.
I see that car and I'm instantly 19 again. And my life was just as good then, as it is now.
Except now, the stakes feel so much higher.
I want so much more from life. But do I want the things that will actually make my life beautiful?
I was at a party last night where every single attendee would have been the 'most interesting person in the room' anywhere else. The (very gracious and lovely) host said, "you've all been hand-picked because you do or have something very special."
He was right. Everyone there was exquisite. But... can I share music playlists with them? Can we go on road trips and dance in hail storms and be weird and deep and vulnerable?
We all do super interesting things, but are we really interested in each other? Or are we all just interested in the game?
And does the game actually mean anything? Or is it all just smoke and mirrors?
PS- I'm sure that every person I met yesterday was lovely and deep and weird and achingly human in the most beautiful of ways. This is more of a commentary on my own means... how do I balance my desire to experience the most out of life, with the ability to stop and enjoy and dive deep?